Bedridden
by DealingDearie
Summary: Spock contracts a mysterious illness and Nyota takes it upon herself to help him get better.


The notion that there could be perks to falling ill would have baffled Spock if the thought had come to him sooner, would have had him scrambling for an answer as to why anyone in their sane mind could think that, would have made him question the human mind.

But it wasn't a human mind, and sanity was surely intact, and the thought arrived far too late.

So, Spock nursed the idea, gently turned it about in his thoughts and refreshed his view point too many times to count, and came to the same conclusion.

There were, _indeed_, perks, one of which being a certain Nyota Uhura doting on him all the hours of the day. It wasn't exactly her doting, either, that slowly became an advantage, rather the odd insight such close proximity gave him into her life and her mind and her heart.

Something Spock had never been privy to was the exact story of her origin, the very moment she'd decided to join the Academy, the small, personal bits of her life that brightened the light in her chestnut eyes. After becoming sick, Spock had tried everything he could think of to remedy it, but the virus remained a complete and frustrating mystery, one that she was working hard to discover. In the meantime, he was all but quarantined, and only Kirk ever came to visit. He was always so wary, though, that Spock had bid him a prompt and indefinite goodbye-at least until the illness was remedied. Nyota had stayed, though, risking her own health to tend to his, and even a Vulcan could not deny the softness that had formed in his heart at every one of her selfless actions.

Currently, she was reading him a passage from her aged-if not ancient-storybook, one that was littered with children's scribbling and markings, most definitely meant for that very same youth if the simple words and explicit themes were any indication.

"My father used to read these to me as a girl," she'd said fondly, softly, her voice hushed in that peaceful, nostalgic manner that overcame so many humans, and he had listened to the rustling of the stiff pages as she had opened the book, her eyes catching and tracing every simple illustration drawn on the papers.

The comfort of the mattress beneath him was no match against the familiar warmth of her body pressed to his, his head resting on her lap as her free hand carded absently through his hair, the blankets tucked carefully and lovingly around him to keep the cold at bay.

Her voice soothed him, calmed his rapid heartbeat, cooled his heated blood, and fixed his aching body. It was his bedtime story even more than the words that poured from her soft lips were, tales of magic and good versus evil and happy endings. He'd never felt so welcome, had never been so included, and as he listened, enraptured, to the stories she'd cherished as a child, he realized why they meant so much to her.

The emotion in her voice could only be credited to the fond memories of her parents in relation to those same stories, but the shake in her touch and the warmth beneath her skin was because of Spock, Spock being so near and being so vulnerable and being exactly like she'd always wanted to see him-even if it was due to illness.

He could see her as a child, wrapped up in blankets and curled against her father's side, brown eyes wide and innocent as she drank in the adventurous tales of knights in shining armor and sleeping curses, and he could imagine her sleeping every night, dreaming of her own fairy tale.

He really did love her, that was clear to him and had been for a very long time. She was the bright star in the darkness, the point of no return, the place of honesty and acceptance. Distantly, that thought came to him, a swelling of emotions deep in his gut as he began to lean more heavily against her, and he heard a small laugh break through her words, but he was already falling into a deep slumber, hoping that she'd found her fairy tale.

Her voice and her warmth and her light were the last things he was aware of, and darkness overcame him as the story reverberated through his head.

_"And they lived happily ever after…" _

And somewhere, somewhere far down in his dreams, somewhere in his most secretive thoughts, Spock knew that he'd found that coveted happy ending.

**Based off a prompt given by dumplestiltskin over on Tumblr. **

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